


The Same And Yet Different

by Hekate1308



Series: Sherlock Holmes/Sally Donovan Universe [27]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 22:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She really shouldn't have expected anything different from Sherlock Holmes' son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Same And Yet Different

DI Sally Holmes has seen a lot of things in her life; she has solved crimes, married the World's only consulting detective, has a family with him (a family that somehow includes several members who aren't related to them at all), got a promotion when she thought it would never come. Her life is madder than she ever could have fantasized about when she was a girl, and she is happier than she ever thought she'd be.

Usually.

Right now, she is angry. Or as angry as she can be, because there is this ridiculous pride she somehow hasn't been able to shake off.

No. She has to focus on her anger because God knows this family needs someone who is close to normal now and then.

She enters 221B and slams the door. Her satisfaction at having made sure he knows she's angry is short-lived when Mrs. Hudson, still as sturdy as ever, comes out of her flat and shakes her head in disapproval.

She can't spare time to apologize now, so she simply nods at her and storms up to their flat, throwing the door open.

"SHERLOCK HOLMES!"

He is sitting at the kitchen table, of course, conducting an experiment. She storms over, determined to make him look at her.

Finally, after almost a minute of silently staring at her husband, he raises his head and looks her up and down.

"What is it?" he asks calmly, and she could slap him for making her want to kiss him simply by sitting there and acting the Sherlock version of confused.

"You know perfectly well" she says, forcing herself to be quiet. Sherlock has never reacted well to shouting; she learned early on that he doesn't listen when someone's screaming.

"No I don't" he replies smoothly. "I can tell that you are agitated, but since you obviously were neither in a fight nor at a crime scene, the reason for your anger must be some news you received during – I would say during the last half hour. So..." he suddenly trails of and frowns before asking, "Sally, is – "

She really should let him panic, at least for a moment, but she can't bring herself to; just the concerned look on his face is enough to melt her heart. So she says "Everyone's alright".

Something very close to a relieved sigh escapes him and she remembers she's angry.

"That doesn't mean nothing's happened, though". She glares at him and enjoys a confused Sherlock Holmes. It's a rare sight.

She decides to put him out of his misery and says, making sure to enunciate every word, "Your son and his best friend broke into a crime scene and were arrested".

His first reaction is "How is that possible? Every police man in the city knows us".

She laughs. She can't help it. She laughs and laughs and can't stop, the surprised expression on his face only making her laugh harder.

Eventually she has to cling to a kitchen counter. Wiping her eyes, she asks, gasping, "Is this really the first thing that pops into your head? That every police man in London should know better than to arrest Hamish?"

"It's a logical reaction" he defends himself, and he just shakes her head because all the anger has left her and he's right. It's crazy, but it's her life and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"It was a new Constable" she informs him, "he didn't take the fact that a sixteen-year-old solved his crime within ten minutes very well".

Sherlock doesn't even attempt to his how proud he is. She understands him – she's proud herself, to be honest – but there have to be some limits, so she forces herself to be stern as she continues.

"Thankfully, Dimmock came by when he was taking their statements at Scotland Yard and called me."

"We really should have him and his family over for dinner" he mumbles distractedly before asking, "Where are they?"

"I drove to the Yard immediately when he called me" she answers instead of telling him straight away because he was the one to teach Hamish deduction in the first place and deserves a little punishment – because. Just because. She knows it's childish – they were never going to have normal children in the first place, and she couldn't wish for a better son – but she wants to have a few moments of fun.

She doesn't tell him she was glad to get out of the seminar because he most likely already knows and continues "When I arrived, they were already being lectured by Greg in his old office". It's never going to be "Dimmock's office", and the DCI knows that. Plus, everyone at the Yard hears about the now-retired Greg Lestrade and his connection with Sherlock Holmes. It was logical to call him too. And he's more than capable, being a father himself, of giving a firm scolding. So she left them and came over here to be angry at Sherlock.

Only it isn't working, because she is proud and he is proud, and they might be the craziest parents in England.

"Where is Cecily?" he asks casually, and she responds automatically, "She's at the Knights, with Melissa". Normally, a sixteen-year old teenager wouldn't want to be friends with a twelve year old girl, but Cecily can hardly be called ordinary.

He nods and stands up.

"I assume –" he starts, probably wanting to say something about picking them up when John strolls into the flat; he never gave his keys back, and Mrs. Hudson certainly never reminded him to do so.

She has to give the doctor credit; he at least tries not to look proud. Although he certainly isn't succeeding. "Greg called" he informs them, and then, because Sherlock can't help himself and breaks into a grin, he smiles too.

She sighs. "Great pair of fathers you are".

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Please, Sally, it's hardly surprising that our son is more intelligent than the police – Cecily would certainly have solved the case too".

"Sherlock" she explains patiently, "that's not the point. We are his parents, we should freak out because he was arrested, not shrug our shoulders and think about it as occupational hazard."

Sherlock raises an eyebrow in a way that she knows means "But it is" and she can't help but laugh. John laughs with her – with them, really, because Sherlock is laughing too.

Finally she decides she has to be the adult in the situation – Sherlock and John certainly won't be – and forces herself to stop.

"We are going to pick up the children" she announces, half-heartedly glaring at them, "and I expect the appropriate response from you. Which means not asking Hamish how he figured out who was the killer" she adds when she sees the light in Sherlock's eyes.

He grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "boring" and she replies, "This is all your fault, you know. Who took our children to crime scenes when they were babies?"

"I needed you and John there" he answers simply, "Mary was at work and Mrs. Hudson couldn't look after them every time".

"Let's go" John interrupts them, and it's good that he does, because she already feels like laughing again.

For being the sanest of them all, she is rather crazy by anyone's standards.

"Where's Mary?" she asks.

"On her way" John replies. She's thankful; at least Mary should be able to scold them.

She promises Mrs. Hudson – who shuffles out of her flat as soon as she hears them coming down, naturally – to tell her everything upon their return and they take a cab to Scotland Yard.

Hamish and Thomas are in Dimmock's office, being glowered at by Mary, who apparently just gave them a firm talk – although they, just like their fathers, don't even have the decency to act ashamed. In fact, if anything, they look bored. Greg stands in a corner, apparently not sure whether he should still be angry at them – she knows he already tried to make them see reason, his phone call made it more than obvious. She can't blame him; sitting in front of her, looking like breaking into a crime scene is the most natural thing in the world – she is reminded of two certain someones, who are standing behind here and (for once) don't say a word.

She looks at her son and shakes her head. So much for her hopes of keeping him from solving crimes until he turned eighteen.

"Hamish" she asks, slowly, "what did I tell you about breaking into crime scenes?"

"Hobson was an idiot" he replies, now sounding a little bit concerned – although this might more have to do with his mother being angry than anything else. "It was obvious – "

"And so you had to solve the case yourself and drag Thomas along?"

"I wanted to come" Thomas interrupts with the same stubborn loyalty that prompts his father to run after Sherlock at all hours. "Hamish needed me".

Hamish looks at his best friend and smiles a certain half-smile, and she bites her lip as she feels the last remains of her anger leave her. Holmeses and Watsons. They are always going to be her downfall.

She sighs and wonders how she could punish her son; not that she wants to, but she doesn't really want to punish him anyway, and really, at least her son runs around doing something good for society instead of taking drugs or destroying property.

She gives up, thanks Dimmock and they all leave the Yard, one of, Mycroft's limousines awaiting them. She can't deny that having the British Government as a brother-in-law has his practical sides. She happily greets Anthea and asks, "Cecily – "

"Don't worry, we made sure our niece was picked up" she says nonchalantly, and Sally just smiles. Anthea (of course she knows her real name by name, but the name she first knew her by stuck) rarely addresses her and Mycroft's relationship, although it's obvious it has made both of them very happy.

"Thanks, Greg" she says when they stop in front of his and Molly's house, and he waves a dismissive hand in the air.

"Please. Anything for Holmes and Watson". He grins and leaves the limousine, although not before shooting Hamish and Thomas a half-hearted glare.

They are silent until they arrive at Baker Street, Mary and John immediately dragging their son out of the car, although they certainly don't look as angry as – well, as any normal person would be.

Mrs. Hudson is waiting in their flat – obviously she's still convinced that a twelve-year-old girl shouldn't be left alone – and Cecily simply lets her gaze sweep over them and deduces everything.

Sally clears her throat and looks pointedly at her husband, who's apparently trying to get back into the kitchen to finish his experiments.

He sighs and tells Hamish "We need to talk".

Sally drags Mrs. Hudson and Cecily in her and Hamish's room – when she was pregnant with their daughter, she suggested a move, but Sherlock declined, and honestly, she has never felt anywhere more at home than 221B and the children seem to get along quite fine – and her daughter announces, as soon as the door closes, "So he finally did it?"

"Did what?" she asks, and Cecily rolls her eyes and shoots her a look that says "you can't be serious" and that Sherlock is adamant she inherited from her before clarifying, "Hamish. A crime scene. He always wanted to solve a case on his own – well, almost. He'd take Thomas along, of course".

Sally chooses not to ask why Cecily didn't warn her; her children are very loyal to each other, and she would never drive a wedge between them. So she simply tells Mrs. Hudson what happened.

Their landlady isn't shocked in the least, in fact acts like she expected this, and they make small talk until Hamish opens the door and indicates he wants to speak to his sister alone.

Mrs. Hudson returns to her flat and she walks into the kitchen to find Sherlock finishing his experiment.

"What did you tell him?"

Her husband looks up from the microscope and his eyes sparkle as he replies, "To wait until he is invited".

"Which will be rather soon, I presume?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "It might be that I have to train a successor..."

She snorts. "A successor? As if you hadn't trained him already".

"Not officially".

She shakes her head. "Sometimes I wonder why I married you".

"Oh?" he asks as he stands up, and she recognizes the look in his eyes.

"Sherlock – the children – "

"Are in their room – and Hamish will tell Cecily everything about the crime. Plus – that's what the key of the bedroom door is for, isn't it?"

She can't argue with that logic.


End file.
